Page 9 of A Package Deal

My head was already shaking. “I can’t bring her to a farm. She’s five. I’d have to watch her like a hawk and then who would do the work?”

Warrick stood up straighter, his muscles looking delicious in that expensive shirt. “You work, I’ll watch Georgia. Kids love me.”

And then he walked back into the house, leaving me with absolutely no choice in the matter. Not if I wanted to keep this job.

CHAPTER FOUR

Warrick

I was a liar.

Okay, not a liar, but unquestionably a bender of the truth. I’d never really been around kids, but if I had, I was certain they’d love me. How could they not love me? I was fun. A hell of a lot more fun than Slaywright.

I’d overheard her barking orders at the two subcontractors. Hell, by the time she fired Bob, I’d been shaking in my boots and she wasn’t even talking to me. For such a small thing, she sure had a fierce bark. For such a pretty thing, I wondered if she would also bite, given the right circumstances.

Not that now was the time to even entertain the rest of that thought. Not when the cutest blur of sparkly pink slid out of the truck and ran to the pen where we kept the goats. Her blonde curls bounced with each step, a crackle of energy in her wake.

“Mama! Dogs!”

“No, baby,” Em said in a voice I’d never heard before. It was soft, patient, and dare I say…kind? “Those are goats.” She shut the door and grabbed her tool belt out of the back.

“Goats?” The girl reached for the fence, wrapping her tiny fingers around the wire, her nose pressed so far through the fence Cleveland had zeroed in on her and was making a run for the tiny human, thinking it was snack time.

I ran too, bounding down the steps and making it across the patch of dirt in record time. I swooped down and tossed the little girl in the air before Em had even gotten halfway to the pen. Cleveland butted his head against the fence, right where the little girl had just been.

“Hey there, little lady,” I said jovially, putting her back on her feet a few feet away from the pen like I hadn’t just saved her from a headbutt that would have ruined her day. “I’m Warrick.”

She craned her head way back to stare up at me, her body frozen, as if she was deciding whether she was going to laugh or burst out crying at the sudden manhandling by a tattooed stranger. Em came up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder and staring at me. Em’s eyes held an unspoken thank-you that I was sure dented her stubborn pride.

The little girl, bolstered by her mama’s nearness, went for laughter. The giggle was just about the cutest thing I’d ever heard. Suddenly I was looking forward to seeing what else made the tiny human laugh rather than dreading my babysitting duty.

“I’m Gogia,” she said, her little-girl mispronunciation like a foreign accent.

I stuck out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Georgia. Would you like to feed some chickens?”

“Chickens?” She scrunched up her nose as she stared up at me. “Like nuggets?”

Now it was me booming with laughter. Georgia slid her tiny hand in mine, her skin so soft and fragile I was scared to hold her too tightly. I guessed it was just that easy for a five-year-old. Trust wasn’t something adults gave away so easily and that innocence made me want to protect this girl with my very life. Maybe I’d had it wrong all this time. I wasn’t here on this green earth to fall in love and protect a woman. I was here to protect a little human female.

Em squatted down, her hands on Georgia’s waist. “Be a good girl, please. Listen to Mr. Warrick and follow his directions. I’ll be inside this house. If you scream, I’ll hear you and come running, okay?”

Georgia nodded solemnly. “I don’t wanna scream and scare the goat-dogs.”

Em bit back a smile and stood up, eyeing me again. I was sure that mention about screaming was a warning directed at me, and I didn’t blame her one bit. I was still essentially a stranger.

“We’ll check in every half hour,” I assured her. Em finally nodded, breaking our stare, before marching into the house, the tools on her belt swaying.

I looked down at Georgia. “Have you ever held a chicken before?”

She shook her head, big blue eyes looking at me with expectation. I’d sat across a boardroom table from various business sharks who could have meant a loss of millions of dollars if the negotiations didn’t go well, and yet none of them had intimidated me like this little slip of a human. I swallowed hard.

“Come on, then. I’ll show you how, but only if the hens are cooperating today.” She and I walked across the patchy grass, heading for the chicken coop. Her eyes went wide when she saw the hens pecking away at the grass, looking for worms for breakfast. To my surprise, she didn’t dig her heels in or balk at the beady eyes and sharp beaks. As soon as I opened the pen, she barreled inside, running between the birds with a squeal. The dang chickens followed her like she was a rockstar in their midst. Georgia spun in a circle and they squawked around her, matching her energy.

Picking up the bag of chicken feed I’d left by the gate for this very purpose, I scooped some out. “Hold your hands together up high.” Georgia followed directions perfectly. I put some of the feed in her hands. “Now toss that away from you.”

The girl was a natural. The chickens went squawking for the feed, pecking at the ground and then running back to her. Georgia squealed and kept reaching for more of the feed. When I was certain the chickens just might eat themselves to death, I closed the bag and waved Georgia over to the gate.

“That’s enough for today, Peaches.”

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